Death's Sanctuary
by Siripiritus
Summary: AU. One family's decision causes a ripple effect like no other. The Dursley's abandoned their nephew, and the Grim Reaper visits little Harry Potter again, but instead of Death stealing Harry's heart, Harry steals Death's. Grim finds parenthood overated.
1. Death

Disclaimer: *sarcastically* Yes I do own Harry Potter! I am actually making loads of money of this FANfiction story! And I also own the Internet, and the Eiffel Tower, all the McDonald's out there, and the color green! Do I own Harry Potter you ask? Well that's a stupid question. No I don't. There you happy . . . punk?  
  
Prologue  
  
Isn't it amazing to think that anyone can ultimately decide the fate of the world? Just think, a perfectly normal person with no great significance decides to come into work later than they usually do. Why? Because they just feel like having a lie in, that's all. That person just saved the lives of themselves and a young boy. How, do you ask? Well, if they had been responsible and had left for work on time, they would have spilled their coffee that they had brought in the car, run a red light, and collide into the car of the young boy's mother, thus killing themselves and the child instantly.  
  
Did you know that that same boy grew up to be a doctor, discovered a cure for all types of cancer, and saved many lives? Including the life of the man who would eventually discover life on Mars, make a peace treaty with the Martians, and change the course of our world forever? And all because one seemingly insignificant person decided to have a lie in. Just think, if they hadn't who knows how many people would be dead? Not to mention the attack of the Martians.  
  
One thing leads to another, and some events can never be changed, but what if something happened that wasn't supposed to happen? What if an aged and respected man overlooked a small, but rather obvious flaw in his perfect little plan? One family's decision causes a ripple effect like no other. What if the Dursley's abandoned their nephew, and what if the Grim Reaper visited little Harry Potter again, but instead of Death stealing Harry's heart, Harry stole Death's. Grim finds that parenthood looks much easier on TV.  
  
Death's Sanctuary  
  
Chapter One  
  
A dark figure skulked silently down the alleyway, watching his prey run haphazardly towards Itself. It, for it was neither male nor female, observed the man as he stumbled past Its hiding place amongst the shadows. The young man's eyes were wide with fright as he over turned garbage cans and tripped on old tires in his haste to get away from his hunter.  
  
It knew that the man was going to die tonight. In fact, it seemed that a great number of people seemed to die the day before and on All Hallows Eve. All It needed to do was wait for the moment when the mortal's life was taken by his own kind. The Immortal slinked from shadow to shadow with inhuman speed as it followed It's prey down the maze of alleys that were London's very own. It was as if the Immortal was made out of the shadows themselves the way It blended and molded into them.  
  
It breathed in deeply. The Immortal could smell the fear mingled with sweat and blood that was coming from the frightened muggle. A feral grin spread across It's face. Soon. Soon It would have the man's soul. But the grin slowly started to disappear. It just remembered all of that bloody paperwork still sitting on It's desk.  
  
The sound of the cracking of bones could be heard as the man stepped on an innocent, by standing rat. The man stopped and tried to wipe the rat's remains off from the bottom of his shoe. But that moment's hesitation cost the man his life.  
  
The Immortal hide in the shadows and watched the scene play out.  
  
The sound of gun blasting, the whistle of the bullet as it sliced through the air, the sound of skin tearing, and the man was no more.  
  
"Bloody hell, Frankie. You shot tha' guy righ' good ya did. I can see straigh' through 'is 'ead," panted a large burly man carrying a pistol and trying to catch his breath from the chase. He was dressed in an expensive Armani suit and greatly resembled a gorilla. The man was heavy browed and looked rather slow, in more ways than one.  
  
"Yea Bruno, I got 'em," replied Frankie smugly. Frankie was the kind of man you would immediately associate with some species of rodent. He had greasy slicked back hair, and a very pointed nose. He, too, was carrying a weapon and was dressed rather expensively for someone who wouldn't look out of place in a penitentiary somewhere.  
  
"That'll teach tha little bastard not ta mess aroun' wit' tha Giovanno family. 'E got wha' was commin' to 'em. Nex' time e'd better pay wha' 'e owes tha boss or 'e'll get 'is!" stated Bruno firmly.  
  
"Ya stupid idiot!" yelled Frankie as he hit the back of Bruno's head for emphasize. "There won' be no bloody nex' time! The man 'ere is already dead! At leas' act like ye got an ounce of common sense abou' ya!"  
  
Bruno blinked and rubbed the back of his head, although it took a second for his brain to fully register that he was supposed to be in pain.  
  
"Oh yea, I forgot."  
  
Frankie glared at Bruno, sighed, and looked up to the heavens as he mumbled under his breath. "Oh come on ya stupid brute! Let's get outta 'ere before we get someone come along an' sees us. We nee' ta go an' report to tha boss tha' Jonesy 'ere 'as been taken care of."  
  
The two men lumbered off towards the street, unafraid of passing cars as it was close to three o'clock in the morning. The Immortal watched the two men leave. Oh what fools these mortal's be. No matter, because It'll see those two both soon enough. It turned to face the dead body of the man he had been following earlier, and internally debated on what form It should take. Since the man had committed crimes of great caliber throughout his lifetime, It decided to take on the well-known and well-feared form of a skeleton wearing a black robe and carrying a scythe.  
  
The dead man opened his eyes.  
  
He seemed a bit disoriented at first, but when he saw the skull looking out from under the hood of it's robe, seemingly staring straight into his very soul, he screamed. But the dead man was shocked into silence as he spotted his dead body lying at his very own transparent feet. The man was about to scream again, but was interrupted by the Grim Reaper.  
  
"Hush you filthy mortal! Accept the fact that you are dead, for there is no power on earth that can reawaken you. Raphael Derek Jones, you have done many a heinous crime in your short twenty-eight years. All of which include murder, rape, and kidnapping. You should have never entered the folds of the English mafia. I give my final judgment. You, Raphael Derek Jones, are going straight to Hell, and I hope to never see your damned face again."  
  
The Grim Reaper swung his scythe to the ground. The sharp point of his weapon cracked the gravel of the alleyway, and the ground slowly started to split apart. Orange and Red light poured from the crevices as they opened and the temperature suddenly increased drastically, almost to the point where any living being would quite possibly combust.  
  
The man tried to run, as most do, but with a snap of the Grim Reaper's bony fingers, the man was shackled and chained. Small, black creatures with pointy horns and red eyes crawled from the openings and tugged sharply on the man's chains. The man cried out in pain.  
  
"Take him to the Fourth Gate of Hell. I will instruct you more on his "detailed" punishment when I return from my vacation, but for now try the cat o' nine tails and give him the rack," addressed the Grim Reaper to the demons. The demons nodded their understanding and dragged the spirit of the dead man into the rift. Finding his voice, the man screamed.  
  
"NO PLEASE NO! DON'T DO THIS TO ME! I'M INNOCENT I TELL YA! YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG GUY! NO PLEASE! HAVE MERCY! HAVE MERCY!"  
  
But his pleas fell upon deaf ears as the demons dragged his struggling body into the fiery depths of Hell.  
  
The Grim Reaper reverted back to It's natural shadowy form. Now that It was in the moonlight, It could definitely be described as a living, or well, existing shadow. The shape of the figure was tall and lean, and it appeared that it was wearing some sort of a cloak. The hood was pulled up, much like its Grim Reaper form. Although instead of a skull, the face was that of something vaguely resembling human, but one could not tell if it was male or female, but it currently resembled more of the male variety and therefore we shall refer to It as a he. His blue eyes seemed to glow with repressed power as he watched the opening to Hell close.  
  
It, now identified as Death, or to close friends as Grim, sighed. It had been a long couple of centuries dealing with these petty mortals, and to be frank, Grim was tired and in desperate need of a vacation.  
  
Grim reached into his sleeves, where he kept a multitude of useful items for all occasions, and pulled out his "Death List". It was a list of all the people that were going to die that day, and there was only one person left. Grim heaved a relieved sigh. One more person to go, then it was off to the office to tie up some loose ends, file away the information of his latest "victims", and then off to Hawaii.  
  
Grim may not be particularly fond of mortals, but he did think them ingenious with their advances in technology. He planned to barricade himself in the hotel room and watch that wonderful invention, television, for the first week. Well, there was also the little problem of who was going to fill the position of Death while he was on his three-month vacation. He couldn't well have living but sort of dead zombie wandering around and decaying on people now could he?  
  
Thinking on the problem at hand, Grim shrank back into the shadows, and traveled through them to his next appointment. He needed somebody responsible, well organized (he privately snorted at this as he was well- known for being an absolute pig), trustworthy, and someone who would not abuse the power of being Death. He finally came to the conclusion, after much thought, that Desdemona, one of the higher ranking demons and a good friend of his that he trusted beyond anyone else, could take up the scythe whilst he was away.  
  
Grim nodded to himself, pleased that he had come up with a solution to his problem in such a short time. He re-emerged from the shadow of a large two- story house. The lawn was perfectly trimmed, as was the bushes, and the house was painted a pleasant cream color. All in all, it was a nice house. Being invisible, as he could not be seen by mortals, Grim, via shadow- travel, entered the house.  
  
The interior of the house was just as pleasant as the exterior. Pictures of small children, parents, and grandparents adorned the walls going up the stairs. Grim glided silently to the second floor, and stopped just outside the door of one of the bedrooms. He passed through the door, as was one of his other talents, and gazed upon the sleeping figure of an old, frail looking woman. Her breathing was erratic and it looked as if she were sweating. She tossed, turned, and mumbled quite protests under her breath. Her eyes were scrunched up in pain, and it seemed that the poor woman was having a very distressing nightmare.  
  
Grim slowly raised his hand to the woman's forehead, and immediately the woman fell into a dreamless sleep. She was old, but she was not the one that Grim had come for. He left the old woman to her rest, and went to the room right across the hall. The door had a picture tapped onto it. It seemed as if the artist was six or seven judging by the stick people family. There were five people in all. The man was labeled "Daddy" and the woman "Mommy", but the woman with gray hair was labeled "Grandma". There were two children in the picture. The little boy was labeled "Billy" and the little girl, who was slightly taller than the boy, was labeled "Emma".  
  
Another picture above the family portrait was also tapped onto the door. In different colors, the word's "Emma's Room" was written in sloppy letters that only a child could manage. There were little hearts and flowers surrounding the words. Grim took a moment to study the pictures, and then entered Emma's room.  
  
A night-light glowed in the far corner. There was just enough light to make out a small girl tucked safely into her bed. She had curly brown hair and small little hands and if her eyes were opened they would be a beautiful cinnamon color. She, like her grandmother, was sweating profusely and her breathing was ragged. Though this was not caused by a nightmare. No, Emma was ill, and her fever was becoming deadly. One of Grim's many talents was taking on different forms with different people. With criminals like Raphael Jones, he became the Grim Reaper because that was what that person would respond most to best. Although children were different. They responded better to soft-spoken words of reassurance and friendly, smiling faces.  
  
Grim changed into a beautiful woman with honey colored hair and big blue eyes. Snow-white wings adorned her back, and she wore a flowing robe of pure gold. She gently settled her hand on the child's forehead.  
  
"Child, come on now, it's time to go."  
  
Emma's eyes fluttered open and she blinked in surprise. "Who are you?"  
  
The angel smiled sweetly at the child's small voice. It was such a shame that one as young as this girl had to leave life so early, but it was out of her hands. She just fulfilled the orders she was given.  
  
"I'm your guardian angel, Emma, and I'm here to take you on a little trip far away from here," replied the angel, formerly known as Grim. Emma's eyes lit up with excitement.  
  
"Really? Oh boy! Where are we going? Are Mommy, Daddy, Granny, and Billy coming too? I never get to go on trips anymore since I got this cold 'bout two weeks ago. When do we leave?" asked the small girl. She was literally bouncing in excitement. She didn't seem to realize that her body had stopped breathing long ago, or that she was sitting in mid-air.  
  
"Hush now child. Enough questions. No, your family isn't going to be coming, and they won't be with you for a while, but your Grandmother will join you soon. But don't you worry your pretty little head about all that, because time will just fly by. Now, have you ever heard of Heaven?" asked Grim sweetly. The girl nodded vigorously.  
  
"Yes, that's where Mommy said Grandpa is. What's your name?" said the small girl. The angel smiled brightly and offered out her hand to Emma.  
  
"I don't have a name. How about we go see your Grandpa, hmm? I bet he'd love to see you. What do you say? Do you want to go visit your Grandpa, Emma?" Emma nodded once again enthusiastically and took the angel's offered hand.  
  
"But what am I going to call you?" asked Emma. The angel smiled indulgently.  
  
"Why don't you give me a name?"  
  
The small child's face screwed up in concentration as she thought of the perfect name for her guardian angel. She suddenly smiled a bright smile. "Can I call you Sera? My mommy said that means angel and that's why my nickname is Sera, but you can have it!"  
  
Grim smiled sweetly at the small girl. He was always rather fond of mortal children, even if they did grow up to be idiots. The newly dubbed Sera took Emma's hand. They disappeared in a blinding flash of white light.  
  
The next morning when Emma's mother came to wake her daughter, Mrs. Harding found her daughter unresponsive to the calling of her name. When Mrs. Harding gently shook her daughter's shoulder, she discovered that it was quite stiff, as rigor mortis had already set in. She screamed and Mr. Harding came running, along with Emma's younger brother and Grandmother. What started out as seemingly a simple cold, had turned deadly.  
  
The funeral was next Sunday.  
  
~^V^~^V^~^V^~^V^~^V^~^V^~  
  
Grim sighed as he filed the last of his paper work away. It was now about nine o'clock on All Hallows Eve. It had taken him almost sixteen hours to finally get all of his affairs in order, file the paper work, hire someone to feed his fish, and talk Desdemona into taking over for him for a while. She had reluctantly agreed, as she wasn't all that comfortable with going around and informing people that they were, in fact, dead. But on the up side, their reactions were quite amusing at times, so she'd enjoy that.  
  
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!  
  
"BLOODY HELL! DO I NEVER GET A BREAK?!?!" screamed Grim, for that was the alarm that somebody was about to die. He thought he had checked his Death List and he was going to be free tonight. Apparently he was wrong. Grim looked at the small television screen on his desk and waited for the names to come up.  
  
Names: James Potter, Lily Potter, Harry Potter  
  
Type: Wizard, Witch, Wizard  
  
Location: Godric's Hollow, Scotland  
  
Death: Murder, Murder, Murder  
  
Murderer: Thomas Marvello Riddle Jr. aka Lord Voldemort  
  
Grim sighed. He'd been having that problem with Lord Moldie-whatsit lately. He'd have the problem with a dark lord rising now and then, but Tommy here was getting a little too powerful for Grim's liking. The man would go off on muggle killing sprees! Not to mention killing his own damn followers! As if he didn't have enough work already! And on top of that, the bastard was trying to become immortal, and damn near achieving it too! Oh he hoped he'd get the chance to meet Goldie-whatever soon. He'd LOVE to take that guy to Hell personally.  
  
Well, he might as well just finish this case up now. He wanted to tie up all loose ends here before he went and indulged himself in a three-month long vacation. Besides, he had the strange feeling that he was meant to go there, but he could exactly explain it. Shrugging with a sigh, Grim set off to Godric's Hollow, hoping this wouldn't take up too much of his vacation time. If the poor Immortal only knew.  
  
AN: Yes, I know, I seem to have a multitude of unfinished stories, but hey! The idea just started typing itself. Why I picked this title? Who knows? Not like I could help it. My fingers have a mind of their own. Please, you know that your reviews mean alot to me, so please do review and tell me what you think so far!  
  
Oh yeah, should I continue this story, or should I just delete it? Please let me know, because I think I might just trash it, but I don't want to, but I'm just not sure. What do you think?  
  
Thanks, Siripiritus 


	2. Life

Disclaimer: Must I really? *hides from rampaging lawyers* Fine fine! Sheesh, don't get your knickers in a twist! Alright, I'm afraid that what I may say will shock the fashizzle out of you, but I-DO-NOT-OWN-HARRY- POTTER! *watches as readers faint* Hmm, I was afraid that'd happen. *runs off to look for the smelling salts*  
  
Death's Sanctuary  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Godric's Hollow was a sleepy little village situated right in the heart of Scotland's countryside. The neighbors were nice enough, although some were a bit secretive, and there were hardly any cars as the people preferred to walk from place to place. Godric's Hollow was home to many a witch and wizard. Not many muggle's lived in the village, but there were still enough to discourage the use of magic in public.  
  
It was late at night, and all of the village's children were tucked safely in their beds, tuckered out from all of the trick-or-treating they had done earlier. The streetlight's glowed dimly by the road that curved and snaked through the village. The road led to the gate of a rather large house, which one could consider a small mansion. This house had belonged to the Potter family for generations, and Lily and James Potter were currently residing there with their small son, Harry.  
  
The full moon bathed the large house with its iridescent light. The crickets chirped to one another from the bushes, and an owl hooted lazily from a nearby oak tree before launching itself into the sky, beginning its nightly hunt.  
  
But this peaceful atmosphere would soon be shattered.  
  
Screams and yells could be heard coming from inside the house, although the mansion was so far from the main road that no one would be able to hear them, but if one had been looking towards the Potter Mansion at that particular time, they would have seen bright flashes of blue, red, orange, and sickly pale green flash in the windows. A peculiar sight that would be.  
  
Grim stood outside of the house. He was in his neutral (and natural) form as it was the one he usually took for most people. He sighed as he checked his watch and impatiently tapped his foot outside of the Potter's home. Finally, he heard what he had been waiting for.  
  
"Say good-bye Potter! AVADA KEDAVRA!"  
  
There was a flash of sickly pale green light, and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Cruel laughter filled the air, before it became distant as it's owner ascended the stairs. Grim glided through the door. There lying on the ground was a young man, no older than twenty or so, with the messiest black hair Grim had ever seen. The man's eyes stared unblinkingly ahead, glazed in death. Grim leaned over the body and waited. Soon, the dead man starting moving.  
  
"Ow! Bloody hell, did anybody get the number on that hippogriff? Man, talk about your hit and runs. Damn I'm sore," said the man as he rubbed the back of his neck. Grim watched amusedly. Mortals could be so funny at times, but it was true. Most dead people were sore after they had been killed with the aptly named Killing Curse. It had something to do with the spirit being ripped from the body. Not a pleasant experience, but the man did eventually go away.  
  
The man, whom Grim assumed was James Potter, continued to mumble obscenities under his breathe. These mumblings suddenly halted, as it appeared that James had just remembered something, something important.  
  
"LILY! HARRY!" With that, the man jumped to his feet and staggered to the stairs. Grim shook his head sadly. The poor man, his family would join him soon enough though. Now he just had to stop the man before he walked in on his wife and son's murder. Now that would be traumatizing.  
  
"Hey James, where do you think you're going? Come on back here, I'm not done with you yet. You people are already taking up enough of my time as it is, and I don't want you making this any harder on yourself."  
  
James spun quickly around, and looked on in shock. "Who the hell are you?"  
  
If it wouldn't have looked so childish, Grim would have rolled his eyes, but since eye rolling did, in fact, look childish, he refrained himself from doing so. Maybe he shouldn't be so straight forward, but then Grim shook his head. No, he was in a hurry dammit, and frankly he didn't care if he was being unprofessional in the least.  
  
"Ok, let's just get this over with. Hi, I'm the Grim Reaper and you are dead. In fact, your whole family is about to die, and I'm here to take you all to either Heaven or Hell. Now, I'm in a hurry so I don't have time for any hissy fits so don't bother or I'll just send you straight to Hell. Any questions and/or concerns?"  
  
James gaped at Grim. He started to splutter, then just stopped and continued to stare at Grim in the most unbelieving fashion. Well, it was better than him throwing a temper tantrum (Grim occasionally had this problem). Grim stared straight back at him, sighed, and then checked his watch. If he could rap this up in twenty minutes, he may still be able to catch the Laverne and Shirley show.  
  
James finally found his voice. "D-dead?"  
  
Grim nodded his head grimly (pardon the pun) and was about to say something to confirm the man's beliefs when they heard a blood curdling scream from up the stairs. Both turned quickly towards the stairs.  
  
"LILY!" yelled James as he bounded up the stairs, Grim right on his heels. James ran down the hall and into what appeared to be a nursery just in time to see his wife's body fall lifelessly to the floor. Grim sighed internally as he watched the scene unfold. James was at his wife's side in an instant, trying to get her to wake up, while Voldemort turned from Lily, clearly not being able to see Grim nor James, and advanced on the small baby crying loudly in the crib. James didn't realize that Voldemort was about to kill his child, as Lily was awakening, but Grim did and watched.  
  
"Alas, I must kill one with such potential, but you will never have a chance to be a thorn in my side, Harry Potter. Now don't cry young one, you will join your fool father and mudblood mother soon enough. Good-bye Harry Potter."  
  
It happened in a matter of seconds, but to Grim, it seemed much longer. Voldemort raised his wand, Lily screamed at seeing her child about to be murdered, and James tried to tackle Voldemort, but fell straight trough him. The words that would end the child's life were hissed by his murderer.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
The green light flew directly at the child, the mother continued to scream and beg whomever would listen to spare her child's life, the father tried to jump in front of the curse, but it passed straight through him, and Grim just watched, as that was all he could do.  
  
Grim expected the child to fall limp when the curse connected. He then expected to explain to both parents that they were dead, but they were going to go to heaven with their child. He would wish them a happy after life and send them on their way. Then, he would catch, probably, the last ten minutes of Laverne and Shirley, order a pizza, and watch TV for the rest of the night and into the next morning.  
  
Those expectations were blown all to hell when the curse BOUNCED off the child's head and flew straight back at one extremely shocked and soon to be former dark lord. With an inhuman scream, Voldemort's body disintegrated and a dark shadow, the living spirit of Voldemort fled into the night through the opened window. The baby screamed in pain, and Grim could see a trail of blood flowing from the open wound down the baby's head.  
  
For a moment, Lily, James, and Grim just stared at Harry. Then, Lily broke down into relieved sobs while James, equally happy that his child would live, tried to comfort her. Grim continued to stare at the baby that had just cheated death, himself. He had no idea what the hell had just happened. It was just too fast, but what Grim did know, was that this boy, Harry Potter, was a very special mortal indeed.  
  
Grim sighed yet again. He REALLY needed to take that vacation now.  
  
AN: Alright, short chapter, but I really don't have a set amount for how much I need to right per chapter. I just stop when it seems to be the time to stop it.  
  
Yay! I got 17 reviews! That's alot for a new story! I'm not going to address everyone personally, but I do want to thank you all. I'll continue the story for now. But a few questions confused me, like "How will Harry get Death on his side?" Erm, that kind of confused me . . . very much, but all I can say is just wait and see what happens!  
  
Oh, updates will be sporadic. I only ever have time to write on the weekends. 


	3. Visits

Disclaimer: Oh, you want my autograph? Thinks really hard the following: Mustn't give away real name. Mustn't give away real name Suddenly develops evil/maniacal grin Well, why not! writes down the name "Joan Doe" Oh your welcome! Any time! &The Next Morning& La la la tra la la! Oh! It's the morning paper! opens to front page Evil Authoress Joan Doe Arrested On The Charges Of Plagiarizing The Wonderful Works Of J.K. Rowling. Sentenced to Death This Morning. Joan Doe Pleads Innocent And Very Confused. (continued on page 3) Shakily refolds paper Erm. . . I don't own Harry Potter. You know that . . . right?  
  
smiles:)  
  
Death's Sanctuary  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Grim smiled when he saw it. It was the most magnificently beautiful thing in the world. It called to him. It sang to him. It pleaded for him to come over there and hug it. It begged him to turn it on; to watch it as it worked it's ensnaring magic on his highly willing mind. It was the television, and Grim was relieved to see it. So relieved, that it was actually rather disturbing.  
  
Twelve hours ago one of the most fundamental rules in his life had been broken. There were just certain things that he knew and knew with out a doubt. The grass was green, the sky was blue, his name was Grim (when the occasion called for it), and absolutely no living organism would be able to survive being hit with the Killing Curse.  
  
His beliefs on all of the aforementioned subjects that he had held strong over the centuries were now blown all to hell by a mere mortal child. For all he knew now, the sky was brown, the grass was neon yellow, and he was originally named Seamore Bartholomew but had blocked the memories of having such an ill-given name because they were too painful to remember otherwise.  
  
But now, after calming the hysterical Potter parents, sending them off to Heaven, filing that bloody long report, explaining to the Council that, yes in fact, the mortal did somehow survive the curse, and yes, he would keep tabs on the kid, and seeing that the child was safely sent to his relative's house by his own kind, well, it was a given that Grim was looking forward to spending some quality time with the love of his li- existence; the telly.  
  
Grim threw his suitcase onto the bed, not bothering to unpack, and plopped down on the sofa in front to the television. He now had chestnut brown hair and deep gray eyes, totally human looking for the vacation occasion. He had also rented a very nice suit in a very expensive hotel. But of course, after the extremely LONG few vacation-less centuries, he deserved wallowing in luxury for a good long while.  
  
Grabbing the remote, Grim began to channel surf, in hopes of finding something interesting to watch. His search promptly led him to a television station showing old TV shows, and guess what was on? Why, you guessed it, Grim was in for a fun filled, action packed episode of Leave it to Beaver! And Happy Days was coming on next! Grim was positively ecstatic. He loved those old classics.  
  
Deciding that it was high time for some grub, Grim reached blindly towards the general location of the phone (he didn't want to take his eyes off the TV.), but his search was fruitless, as the phone was clear across the room on the bedside table. When the commercial came on, Grim raced to the phone and dialed for room service.  
  
"Room Service, how may I help you?"  
  
"Hi, I'd like to order the bacon cheeseburger, two orders fried cheese sticks, an order of tuna salad, an order of chicken salad, a large pepperoni pizza, a small sausage pizza, the filet mignion, medium raw please, an order oysters, three orders of the lobster tail with boiled vegetables, one chocolate brownie cake, the banana pudding, and a small caesar salad please. Delivered to room 311."  
  
"Mm hm. Mm hm. And how many people will be dining tonight sir?"  
  
Grim smiled into the receiver. "Only one ma'm. And could you add an order of buffalo wings to that as well. I get mighty hungry around mid-night or so. Insomniac wouldn't ya know."  
  
Shocked silence on the other line. "O-of course sir, your order will be delivered within the hour. Would you care to order drinks with that?"  
  
"Of course! I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me. Yes, I would like a large pint of ale please."  
  
"A-alright sir. Your total comes to $349.59. Should I add it to your room, or would you rather pay at the door?"  
  
"Oh, just charge it to my room thanks."  
  
"Yes sir, and thank you for your order."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Grim hung up the phone and focused his attention back to the screen. Oh! He absolutely adored commercials! He laughed uproarishly when he saw the Geico commercial. Mortals could be so creative. All to soon for the Grim Reaper, the commercials ended and the show came back on. It was just getting good too.  
  
"Aww, Beaver! Why'd ya do it?"  
  
Grim's show was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was too soon for the room service guy, but maybe they were just extra fast around here because he had spent so much. Or maybe it was just a slow night and they didn't have any other orders. The knock persisted.  
  
"OK! I'M COMMING!"  
  
Sighing resignedly for missing the best part of the show, he pried himself from the comfortable sofa and made his way towards the persistent knock. Opening it, he was really quite shocked to see his most trusted friend, and the person supposed to be filling his shoes while he was away, Desdemona, instead of food, which he had hoped it would be.  
  
"Desdemona?!? What the hell are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here! I'm on vacation for God sakes! Or at least I'm trying to enjoy myself!" exclaimed Grim exasperatedly.  
  
Desdemona arched one delicate black eyebrow and crossed her arms. She really was a beautiful demon as demons go. Long black hair that fell to her waist, piercing lavender eyes, and three black horns adorned her head. Other then the horns, the pointed ears, and the slightly redder than average skin, she looked perfectly like a human, but she was well known around Heaven, Hell, and Headquarters for her dangerous temper.  
  
"Now is that anyway for you to greet the demon responsible for your job, Mr. Grim?" hissed Desdemona dangerously. Grim did some serious back tracking.  
  
Raising his hands in surrender, Grim began to plead, and take several steps backwards. Desdemona entered the room and shut the door. "Now 'Mona, don't get upset!" Desdemona growled warningly at him. She absolutely hated that nickname.  
  
"I-I mean Desdemona. I was just a little bit . . .erm, surprised to see you, that's all. You know with all of the happenings going on these past few days, and the all the, er, last minute, erm, arrangements, and the events with that Harry Potter kid and all, well I'm just a bit stressed, that's all. You know how taxing it is having the responsibility of the title Grim Reaper, and you know how long I've wanted a vacation, so please forgive me if I seem a tad, er, exasperated. I'm really really sorry if I, erm, snapped at you, but I was just . . . just, SO surprised to see you at my door not an hour after I had gotten here, and--"  
  
Desdemona raised her hand, halting Grim mid-sentence. "You're rambling Grim. Do try to exterminate that bothersome habit as it is quite annoying." Grim scowled. He wasn't used to being reduced to a bumbling, rambling idiot in front of anyone. Hell, HE was usually the one doing the reducing. But, unfortunately Desdemona had the power to do just that to him.  
  
Suddenly, Desdemona burst into peals of giggles, losing the whole I'm-About- To-Kill-You-And-Use-Your-Intestines-For-My-Own-Personal-Jump-Rope aura. On contraire, the murderous demon suddenly transformed into a giggling schoolgirl right before his very eyes. Although, these sudden changes in attitudes was the thing that scared Grim the most about Desdemona, as they could happen at any given time.  
  
"Oh Grim! Don't act like a scared little child caught with his hand in the cookie jar! I'm not really mad! I figured you'd be in a shitty mood if anyone DARED disrupt your oh so long awaited vacation," announced Desdemona with a cocky grin.  
  
Yes, thought Grim, and I bet that is exactly why she decided to come.  
  
"What exactly are you doing here, Desdemona? Couldn't it have waited until I've gotten back?" growled Grim. He wasn't in a very good mood anymore.  
  
Desdemona blinked innocently at him. "Well Grim, word around the office was that you got to actually witness this little mortal boy actually survive the Killing Curse. Now, of course, me with my curiosity--"  
  
Grim snorted. If Desdemona were a cat, she'd have died long ago.  
  
Pretending not to hear, Desdemona continued. "And me just happening to be in the neighborhood--"  
  
"What a second! Headquarters in clear on the other side of the planet! This is Hawaii! Do you really expect me to believe that cock and bull story about you "just happening to be in the neighborhood?"  
  
Desdemona scowled at being interrupted and said icily, "And how do you think old Mrs. Kiwanis was going to get to heaven? Or Mr. Yakima to Hell? Hitchhike? Kayak? Fed-Ex? No! I have to carry them there you imbecile!"  
  
Grim looked down and glared at the floor. He should have thought of that. She was, after all, playing the part of Death. And what does one responsible for seeing the dead to either Heaven or Hell do? Grim inwardly slapped himself for his ignorance.  
  
"Now, what was I saying before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes, I WAS in the neighborhood so I decided to pay a visit to my dearest friend and find out all the juicy facts from last night."  
  
Grim raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at his lips. "Tell Santa Clause I said hello for me."  
  
Desdemona found no humor whatsoever in that statement. She glared a glare that promised much pain in the very near future.  
  
"Really Grim! Nicky and I aren't THAT good of friends! Besides, he lives up north, not in Hawaii. But I'm sure that pea-sized brain of yours can't comprehend direction that well hmm?" asked Desdemona sarcastically.  
  
Ignoring the last comment, Grim exclaimed, "Oh come on Desdemona! You had an affair with the man! I don't think things between him and Mrs. Clause will EVER be the same!"  
  
Desdemona frowned, "Well I always did think Barbara had a candy cane shoved too far up her ass. Lighten up! It was in the '60's! You know, spread the love? And besides, I'm a demon! It's my JOB to spread liberal amounts of chaos around the world! Where would those so-called "guardian angels" be if there weren't demons like me around? Out of a job, I tell you. Now, speaking of JOBS, if you want me to continue doing yours, then we'll drop this subject before it goes any farther. Deal?"  
  
Grim smirked. Just bring up merry ol' St. Nick and it'll get her off her high horse any day. "Deal. Now why are you here?"  
  
Desdemona crossed the room and plopped herself on the couch. Grim sat in the armchair over by the side of the couch, carefully watching Desdemona. Desdemona, for her part, had just realized that the television had been on. Her face twisted into disgust as she saw what he had been watching before she had graced him with her presence.  
  
Turning off Fonzie and company, Desdemona said sadly, "Oh Lord Grim. I feel for you. I really do. What the hell have you been watching when I'm not around? You better be thanking me for showing up and saving you from this shit. Man, you have no life whatsoever."  
  
Grim glared. "You're right, I have no life. I have an existence. Now, I repeat myself, why exactly did you decide to pay a visit?"  
  
"Oh, you're no fun. You never have time to just sit and chat anymore," sighed Desdemona. Grim growled. "Desdemona . . . "  
  
"Alright alright! My, aren't we uptight all the sudden. I just wanted to drop in and say hello. Is that too much to ask for? Oh, and I also wanted to find out how that mortal kid survived the Killing Curse. You know it's impossible. I know it's impossible, but apparently that kid didn't know it was impossible as he's still living, breathing, and shitting his shorts. Besides, you're the only witness available because you know good and damn well neither you nor I am able to get into Heaven. So therefore, I can't grill the parents for information."  
  
Grim sighed and slumped into his chair. "'Mona I--"

Desdemona narrowed her eyes in irritation.  
  
"If you positively INSIST on having a nickname for me, then call me Desie, not 'Mona. It makes me feel like some kind of whore from a porn flick," hissed Desdemona.  
  
Grim smirked at that comparison. "Okay, okay! Desie, I have absolutely no semblance of a clue as to how that mortal child survived the Killing Curse with nothing but a cut."  
  
Desie's pointed ears perked up, literally, at that. "What do you mean a cut?" asked Desie. Grim smiled slightly at the memory. It would be a pretty neat scar.  
  
"Where the Killing Curse hit his forehead, it made a small lightning-bolt shaped cut. It bled quite a bit, but nothing a simple wave of my hand couldn't stop though. I didn't completely heal the cut, as I knew it was going to leave a scar, but I thought the scar might, I don't know, BE something. Maybe something useful for the lad in the future. I just had a feeling that I shouldn't remove it. And you have to admit, it's a cool scar."  
  
Desie nodded, seemingly understanding Grim's warped logic. "What happened after he was hit? I heard that the kid somehow defeated that Dark Lord who's been running around lately, but you didn't have to fill out a report for him, so is he really dead?"  
  
Grim shook his head. "No, Coldie-mart's spirit is still alive, probably possessing some poor little animal out there. He won't be able to possess more than a mouse for quite some time yet. As to what happened, well, I had to calm down the parents, I took them into Headquarters and found an angel willing to take them into Heaven. Then I went to the Council and told them all what happened. Those old farts told me it was my responsibility to see that the kid was well looked after, so I'm ordered to check on the kid every few months of his life and interfere if something proves to be potentially fatal to the boy's health.  
  
They apparently know something about the child, but they didn't care to enlighten me. And after that, I went to watch over the child until someone had come to fetch him, saw him safely to his relative's house, and then it was off to the wonderful land of paperwork at the office. Seven hours and numerous pages of paper later, I arrive hear, only to be assaulted by one ill-tempered demon later on what had just happened," Grim finished with a pointed look at Desie, who just ignored him.  
  
"Hmmm. Well that is interesting. But I still wonder what so special about the kid that he can survive the unsurvivable curse," mused Desie, more to herself than to Grim.  
  
A sudden beeping noise sounded somewhere right in Desdemona's long black robes. Grim recognized the sound right away. It was the same beeping noise that was supposed to alarm him to a mortal close to death, and who would be needing his, ah, assistance soon. Desdemona, seemingly realizing what it was, reached into her robe pocket and took out the familiar scrap of parchment. Otherwise known as the Death List. Desie sighed.  
  
"Argh. Not another one. It seems that more and more people are dying these days. You know, if I could, I'd totally find away to destroy all of the cigarettes, beer, and eliminate world hunger if I could. So many people would live so much more longer, and that would be less work for me."  
  
"Well how do you think I feel?" asked Grim. Desdemona glared at him. Changing the subject, Grim asked, "Well, whom do you have to go pick up?"  
  
"Hn. A middle-aged man who won't stop smoking. Hence the lung cancer. And a small child in Zimbabwe whose family is too poor to afford food. Oh, and some stupid teenager in Spain who was driving drunk."  
  
"Well, I guess you'd better go and take care of them. The dead tend to be a bit moody when you're late," said Grim, who was barely able to contain the excitement in his voice of the prospect of company-less telly watching. Desie looked suspiciously at Grim, who seemed far too happy for her likings. She stood up, as did Grim.  
  
"Yes, I guess I must . . ."  
  
Grim gently led her to the door. "Oh yes you must! Why they get down right rude if you keep the dead waiting any longer than is absolutely necessary. Now have fun, be safe, stay out of trouble, don't do anything I wouldn't do, and don't come back anytime, hear? Buh-bye!" Grim slammed the door in a very confused and slightly angry demon.  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief, Grim once again plopped himself on the couch and turned on the telly. Ah, I Love Lucy. His all-time favorite show. And of course, Grim's always interrupted during the best part of the show.  
  
"Lucy! You got some 'splaining to do!"  
  
Knock knock.  
  
Grim grinded his teeth together. He wasn't going to answer that door. Desdemona had to realize that he wanted to be ALONE. Alone does not include her.  
  
Knock knock knock.  
  
Grim growled under his breath. The demon was the most stubborn, cocky, rude, cruel, manipulating . . .  
  
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.  
  
Grim jumped up from the couch, stalked to the door, and literally yanked the door off its hinges in his rage.  
  
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU WANT NOW?!?!?"  
  
That poor poor room service fellow had never been so scared in his life. He literally soiled himself and then took off running straight in the other direction, without even pausing to see which door he had run through. Unfortunately, in his haste to get as far as possible from the raging man, he ran right through the door marked "stairs" and found himself lying at the bottom of a set of them, right on top of the bell boy, who was luggage laden as the elevators were temporarely out of order. Shame really.  
  
Grim winced. He just might be seeing Desdemona sooner than he thought.  
  
AN: Man, that took me a long time to write. 6 pages. Like, ten hours over a span of two days. I wonder why?  
  
Oh wow! 40 reviews? That's alot for a new story with only like 4000 words. Wow. I am touched. Really, I am. Anyway, updates will be on the weekends until summer. Then I'll have a multitude of free time to work on ALL of my stories. Less than a month away. God, I'm excited. No, better yet, relieved.  
  
Anybody know how to do italics or bold? I'd really appreciate the heads up.  
  
How do you all like Desdemona? I'm personally happy with her.  
  
QUESTION!!! Has anybody seen Van Helsing yet? I heard from a friend that it got bad reviews, but it seemed like a pretty cool movie from the previews, and I did like Underworld, and the same girl is in Van Helsing. I don't know anybody that's seen it yet, but I'd thought I'd ask you all. If you saw it, what did you think? Good or Bad? Scale from 1 to 10?  
  
I also want everyone to know that it's a pain trying to get these chapters uploaded since I can't use my own computer.  
  
I decided to add one of these:  
  
& Next Chapter: Abandoned  
Grim has some important decisions to make. Little Harry meets the Dursleys.  
  
Please review and tell me what you think of the story so far. Thank you all for reviewing!  
  
Thanks, Siripiritus 


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